A New Big Bad Always Follows the Last
by whynotitsfun
Summary: If there is a season 3, this is where I'd take it if I had my say. Future Charloe, slow burn more than likely. Let the political intrigue begin!
1. Chapter 1

They keep a low profile as they watch, just in earshot at the rally below. Charlie and Miles are stretched out atop the building. Charlie holds a pair of field glasses; Miles a sniper rifle. They are not looking forward to what they've come to do, but they feel it is a necessary evil. They must prevent history from repeating itself. Charlie watches through the glasses, in utter horror and betrayal at what he's done. It is strange to think that this all just fell into place, like it was destined to be.

After New Vegas, they had returned with their five mercenaries to find the reeducation center had just opened for business. While her family had been distracted by the Nevilles, Monroe had decided to take matters into his own hands. He and Connor somehow had convinced her men to follow him (she still didn't know how). The seven of them infiltrated and liberated the camp. And, Monroe had personally overseen to the recovery of the men and women the patriots had held there. As each recovered slowly from the drugs and torture, they were given a choice. They could join their fledgling resistance and fight the men that had done this to them, or they could be returned home, no questions asked.

The chance to choose their own fate had resulted in most having chosen to stay and fight. And, most of those who'd stayed had been very loyal to the man responsible for their freedom. That was the pivotal moment in their entire resistance to the Patriot threat. Word spread and more people joined. Another reeducation center was taken down with similar results as well.

Soon their resistance in Willoughby had a sizable force behind it, all loyal and willing to stand behind Monroe. And at the time he'd made sure to send them where ever Miles wanted him to. He had bided his time so cleverly. Miles would come up with a strategy for their next move and Monroe would just carry it out, no questions asked with Connor at his side. They should have seen what was looming in the background as they slowly gained ground. Eventually, they had finally ousted the Patriots in Willoughby. In the process Miles had finally found the proof he needed to drive a wedge between Texas and the Patriots.

Monroe had run off with the documents they'd found in Truman's office. He hadn't even taken Connor. Always suspicious, she and Miles had tracked Monroe to Austin. It had turned out that Monroe's plan was to take the documents to Carver himself. Carver would have proof about the Andover Clan, typhus and reeducation center. What Monroe had attempted could have gone very, very wrong. He could have been arrested and shot on sight. After all, he was a walking embarrassment to the Texas Rangers after such a big deal was made over his capture and execution. But instead, Carver had taken his continued existence as further proof of Patriot treachery. Monroe had finally gotten lucky and he gamble had paid off. Texas went against the treaty and turned on the Patriots.

Monroe had once lamented to Charlie in a weak moment that everything he touched turned to shit. After shutting down that first reeducation center, it seemed that he could now do no wrong. From Texas her family and their army slowly beat the patriots back across most of the Plains Nation and former Monroe Republic. Next came the south and the remnants of the Georgia Federation.

And, with every city they freed they had been welcomed. Their army had proven to be the far lesser of two evils. As time had gone on, the people had realized the devil they'd let in when they had accepted the Patriot takeover. The more battles and cities they lost, the more brutal the Patriots had become towards the very citizens they'd claimed to help. But the army backing Charlie's family had been helpful. After chasing the Patriots out, they had helped to rebuild and see what they could do for the towns they saved before pressing on. And the men were kept in check. Monroe and Miles had both seen to it that the men did not get out of hand and let the power go to their heads.

There had been a handful of times that there had been an issue. In Missouri a soldier had raped a local woman. In Kentucky the problem had been theft. In both cases, Monroe had addressed the men, pointing out that they were not a conquering army. They were here to help, not take over. But they were also a voluntary force. There would be no Court Martials. Monroe made it clear that those days were over for them. Instead of ignoring the crimes or punishing the men, he had simply handed the perpetrators over to the local authorities to deal with. This had proven to be the right move. The people they helped respected him for it, and his men felt they'd been dealt with fairly.

The Patriots had fled west of the Rockies, and their president had offered a truce. Knowing that giving chase across the mountains to finish the job may very well be what the Patriots wanted; that the dangers of the crossing could destroy their army, Miles and Monroe had agreed to the man's terms. The Patriots could have whatever they could hold on to out west if they stayed there and left the rest of the continent alone. Sometimes, you had to choose your battles, and a western front was not what they wanted.

It wasn't until after that that the Mathesons had realized exactly what had happened. When Monroe and Connor had left them, their army had followed. Not only did Monroe get his hold republic back, but he'd gained most of the former Georgia Federation and half the Plains Nation as well.

In the three months that have followed the truce, Monroe and Connor went on a political campaign of sorts. Connor has been introduced to the Midwest and for the most part, he's charmed them all. Monroe has been welcomed grudgingly alongside him. Word has been sent across his new holdings for each major settlement to send a representative to Chicago – the new capital of the Monroe Republic. After the hostilities had ended, Charlie and her Family have settled in her uncle's hometown of Jasper. Miles has been chosen by the townspeople to represent them. They have no love of Monroe after the town's native son tried to destroy them all before the fall of the first republic. But the people are afraid to resist. So, they've decided Miles is the best person to keep Monroe in check when it comes to their town.

So now Charlie and Miles lie in wait as Monroe addresses the people. Charlie watches his face as he speaks, the field glasses allowing her to see every nuance in his expression. What strikes her as odd is the ease with which he speaks. This is a side of him she had rarely seen. His posture is casual and his smile is genuine. He seems sincere, which she cannot understand.

"As I speak, hundreds of representatives from all over this new republic are on their way. Among them, a council will be elected to help advise as we establish a true and free republic." The mention of a free nation sends the crowd into an uproar of cheers. Monroe holds his hands out and waits for them to stop before continuing. "We will be a great and strong nation, and this time things will be different. I – I know that the pain that I've caused in the past will always be a shadow over what we are trying to accomplish. There are many that do not trust me, and I cannot blame them." The crowd grows silent; hanging on Monroe's every word. He has them eating out of his hands. In her field glasses, Charlie swears that she can see dampness in his eyes. Even she is not immune.

"As such, this will be my final act as president of the Monroe Republic. Effective immediately, I am stepping down." The crowd reacts to this loudly. Charlie and Miles look at each other, both confused.

"What is he doing?" Miles asks out loud to no one in particular.

Charlie looks again in the field glasses and watches Monroe try to quiet the crowd for a few minutes before handing them off to Miles for him to take a look. He has already set down the rifle. "He's walking away from it," Charlie says incredulously.

Finally Monroe continues, "I am handing both the presidency and leadership of the new Monroe Militia over to my son, Connor Bennett. I will remain as needed in an advisory capacity as this transition takes place. With Connor's aid, the Council will write a constitution that our nation can be proud of. The Monroe Republic will no longer be a republic in name alone. A representative government will be established. Connor will remain in the presidency over the next several years until an election process can be established. Things will be different."

The people cheer again as Monroe steps back to allow Connor to come forward to speak. Charlie takes the field glasses back and watches. She can almost see the pride and love on Monroe's face as he watches his son now. Thoughts are racing in her mind now. She doesn't even hear Connor as she stares at his father, trying to decide what his angle is. _Why give it up? Is he going to run the Republic in the background? Is he really going to walk away?_ Both she and Miles are shocked to the core.

Connor has the crowd laughing one minute, crying the next. He's good. He waits for them to quiet down, following his father's actions from earlier. What happens next startles them all – "And now for my first formal act as President. Sebastian Monroe, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of Emma Bennett. You are also under arrest for war crimes too numerous to count. For the razing of Jasper, Indiana, for mass genocide, immoral recruiting and conscription practices under the old republic. And, for treason against the people. You have already been found guilty of most of these crimes by the Sovereign Nation of Texas."

The look on Monroe's face is heartbreaking. This was definitely not a part of the plan. The pure betrayal written there brings tears to Charlie's eyes. She now realizes what Monroe was doing. This had all been for Connor. And now, as he hands over the reins to a brand new nation to his son, he has been stabbed in the back. Two soldiers grab a struggling Monroe as a new figure steps forward. Charlie cannot believe her eyes. Wearing a Texas Ranger uniform stands Tom Neville himself. Charlie hands the field glasses to Miles so he can see what is going on.

As he looks Miles' jaw drops open. "The little bastard is in league with Neville. I can't believe it."

Connor stands before his father, who is staring him down in absolute sorrow. "Ambassador Neville is here to represent Texas. Your original death sentence will be carried out. Tomorrow at dawn you will be hanged for your crimes, as there is no doubt to your guilt. Only then will we be able to move forward."

Charlie and Miles watch as Monroe is drug away. They stare at each other for several minutes. They can both see what the other is thinking, but it is Miles that finally puts it to words. "Looks like we've got to save his ass one more time, kid." Charlie just nods in agreement. They climb down the back of the building back onto the street and head back to where Rachel and Gene are waiting. They've got a jailbreak to plan.

**A/N: There are still doubts about a season 3. If there is to be one, I think this would be an interesting path to take things. Because let's face it. The Patriots can't be the big bad 2 seasons in a row, and we've already had Monroe as the big bad. Even if we didn't all love new Monroe so, it would be old hat for him to be the bad guy again. So what if a different Monroe was at least at first, the antagonist? I'm not sure how far I'm going to take this exactly, at least a few chapters if anyone shows interest in it. There will likely be eventual Charloe lovins' cause hey- it's fun to write. A bit of a slow burn though maybe? Anyways please let me know what you think and if you have any interest of seeing this go somewhere. Thanks for any favs and comments. I always appreciate them! Makes writing more fun if I know someone is paying attention **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry that it has taken so long for the update. I had a bit of writers block trying to figure out how the new militia turned so quickly. Thankfully last week's episode gave me some help. Plus, I've been on vacation. The next chapter won't take as long. I've already got it half written. This chapter is a little dark, especially towards the end. Thank you for reading and for any insight or criticism you may have. **

Monroe lies in a heap on the concrete floor. The hotel above him has been converted into the new capital building for the Monroe Republic. The basement had been converted years ago by his old militia to hold enemies of the state in the Chicago area. Murderers, thieves and rebels alike had all been held here to await interrogation and eventually, execution. He is unsure of the time. He's sure it's been hours since the beating he'd taken when he was first tossed down here.

That son of a bitch Tom Neville had personally overseen it – watching with that sick smile on his face. Monroe had tried to fight back, but with no weapon and being outnumbered six to one in the small space he hadn't lasted long. Tom had made sure to get his own kicks in once Monroe was down. Literally – the man had kicked the shit out of his ribs. As he slowly tries to rise, Monroe swore he'd kill the bastard if it was the last thing he ever does.

Finally standing unsteadily, he hears footsteps approaching. Tom Neville appears in the shadows. Monroe grips the bars of his cell. He does this not only out of anger but to keep himself upright. He'll be damned if he lets Tom see him down once more. "Well look who's up," the traitor sneers as he stands just out of reach. He knows Monroe too well. His prisoner is tall and has a long reach. If he can get his hands on Tom, he'll be a dead man.

Monroe just stares him down for several minutes, eyes narrowing in disgust and rage. "I've got to hand it to you Tom, I never saw it coming. So tell me, how did you turn my son against me?"

Tom laughs. "What makes you think that I had to do anything at all?" He waits for this to register. He knows it's a bit cliché to reveal all his secrets right before the end, but as calculating as Tom is, he is sadistic enough when it comes to Monroe that he simply cannot resist twisting the knife in a bit further. He wants to see Monroe destroyed in every sense of the word. All of those years of being forced to live in this psycho's shadow; taking orders in fear have left Tom bitter. "This has been the plan ever since you and your son returned to Willoughby with that Matheson bitch and her little fan club."

Monroe resists the urge to lunge at the bars to get to Neville. He knows the man is just out of reach and it would only serve to sap what little energy he has left. He may have need of it later. Instead he plays dumb. If he manages to get out of Chicago alive he will need to know Tom's angle. "What are you talking about?"

Tom leans up against the wall across from the cell casually. "Please. After what you did to that boy's mother, did you really think he'd just follow you? He was more than agreeable when I approached him with my plan. He never cared what happened to you, he just wanted the Republic. Well, he's got it now. He doesn't need you."

Monroe clenches his jaw. Tom has just confirmed what Monroe has feared deep down all along. His only remaining family was only using him to get power. Granted, that was exactly the point of his bribe to Connor in Mexico. He'd known the kid was just a little thug – a big fish in a small pond. He'd offered him the only thing he could to save the kid from himself. He had just hoped that as they worked towards that goal, Connor would learn a few things and grow up along the way. "This will never last. The men will have a few things to say about this. They followed me, not Connor. They accept him only because I've asked them too."

Tom responds by gesturing towards his lower eyelid. Monroe shakes his head in confusion before it hits him what Tom is silently referring to. Tom laughs when he sees the understanding in Monroe's eyes. "Starting to get it? Half of your men are former patriots. Did you really think you'd completely deprogrammed them? All it took was a little tweaking. You never stood a chance."

"You're forgetting the other half of the militia Tom. They all joined willingly," Monroe still holds out the hope that at least some of his troops won't stand for this.

Tom pushes off the wall and stands in front of Monroe again, just a few inches out of reach. "Oh, you mean the men recruited from the old Republic during the war? They followed you because you weren't as bad as the Patriots. But, they still remember everything you've done. They lived it. Do you really think they are going to follow you over Connor? They know what you're capable of. And the ones that don't will be dealt with."

Monroe knows he's right. What reason would they have to pick Monroe over Connor; especially after he'd made a public announcement to announce Connor as his temporary successor? For all they know, this was the plan the entire time. "I don't get it Tom. What's in this for you? No matter which way you go, you're either going to be someone's bitch. Texas or Connor, doesn't matter. You're still not on top."

That sadistic smile again appears on Tom's face. "As if I will bow down to your spawn. He's a kid and a fool. He'll give me an opening sooner or later. And when he does I'll be there to swoop in and get what's mine. I will turn the republic into what it should have been." Tom turns and walks towards the hall. He motions towards someone that Monroe cannot see before he returns. A few minutes later four of his former private guards appear. The cell is unlocked and another beating begins.

Night is starting to fall. Charlie and Miles have met back up with Gene and Rachel and have filled them in. "Well at least he's finally getting what he deserves," Rachel says coldly. "I fail to see the problem."

As much as Gene dislikes Monroe, even he is taken aback at her reaction to Monroe's capture. "Rachel!" he exclaims. "Don't you see what's going on here?"

Rachel backs away from her family. She cannot believe they want to help Monroe. Sure, he was valuable against the Patriots. But that was all. "Can't _you_ see? He betrayed us all by reforming the Monroe Republic. We don't need him anymore and he needs to pay for everything he's done."

Miles reaches for Rachel, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. He understands her outrage. When the army followed Monroe to Chicago he wanted nothing more to take his former friend out. It was the entire reason he'd accepted the delegate position in Jasper. But when he'd realized what Monroe was trying to accomplish, and saw that he was walking away before he could become corrupted by it, he'd had a change of heart. He still feels betrayed but deep down he knows that if anything, they will need him once more. "I know… But maybe for once Monroe's intentions weren't bad. Either way, if Tom Neville is helping Connor call the shots, we will need him to take them out." Rachel still does not look convinced. "He was giving it up, Rachel," Miles adds.

Rachel drops her eyes, feeling slightly defeated. "What do you mean, giving it up?"

Charlie finally speaks up. "He had just announced he was turning the entire thing over to Connor, Mom. He said they were going to write up a constitution and eventually elect a new leader."

Gene looks up now in wonder. "I don't believe it," he says to no one in particular.

Miles turns to Gene, "What?"

It amazes Gene that they aren't getting it. "It doesn't matter what name he was giving it. If what you say is true, he wasn't trying to bring back the Monroe Republic. He was trying to bring back the United States."

Rachel still doesn't want to believe there is an honest or genuine bone in Monroe's body, but she makes an internal decision. "Well, how do we get started? Anyone have any bright ideas?"

Monroe regains consciousness abruptly after being doused with a bucket of cold water. Jason Neville, in his brand new Texas uniform has done the honors. Monroe tries to take a swing at him, but he's held back by another soldier. The man looks familiar, but in his groggy state, he can't quite place him. He's shoved back to the ground and is locked in once more. Neville and the other soldier leave. He looks up to meet the sardonic gaze of his offspring.

"Hello, _Dad_." Connor drawls. The name is said with contempt. Monroe has to tense every muscle in his body to prevent the shudder that threatens to course through him. This Connor reminds him so much as the one he'd first met in Mexico. Cruel, twisted. Those are the only words that come to mind.

Monroe knows it's a waste of time to beg for his life. Even if it wasn't, his pride will never allow it at any rate. He tries another tactic. "I get it. I'm going to get what I deserve. I've told you more than once you should want me dead. But think about what you're doing for a second. Think about what Neville wants. He thinks the Republic should be ran the same way it was before."

Connor shakes his head and laughs coldly. "Really? Good. There was never going to be an election. Why would I work this hard to take it all over, only to give it up in a few short years?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," He snaps. "There's a reason everything fell apart before, Connor. Everyone still remembers what it was like before the blackout. They still remember a free country. Haven't you learned anything? If you make the same mistakes I did, they will resist."

Connor still has very vague memories of life before the blackout, but he was a child then. He was nine when the power went out, and he doesn't have a grasp on what freedom really means. "From what I hear, you pissed it away because you were deranged. That won't happen to me."

Monroe feels his heart breaking when the cold truth finally sinks in. "It already has," he says as he turns away. One hand is braced on the back wall of the cell. He cannot bear to look at Connor now. Everything he has ever done that has led them here hits him once again. If it wasn't for the monster he'd become, Connor would never have been sent to Mexico, and he wouldn't have been broken. Or, maybe Rachel was right. Connor was his blood through and through. Maybe just the fact that Connor had come from him was enough. This was all his fault. "Tom Neville will double-cross you and try to take over. But it doesn't matter. If you manage to survive Tom, this will all fall down around you, and you will end up just like me. I'm so sorry, Connor. This wasn't what I wanted for you."

Monroe leans his head against the wall, thoroughly dismissing him as his eyes burn with tears. Connor responds, but Monroe doesn't even really hear him. He is lost in thoughts of his own failure and self-loathing. He'd tried so hard to take all of the horrifying acts of his past and make them worth something. He had thought if they could bring back a true and worthy government now, then he could was at least some of the blood off of his hands.

It had taken all of his willpower to follow through with this new vision. His every instinct had screamed otherwise. This was the reason he'd decided to hand it over to Connor and walk away. He could feel himself slipping back into his former self. As they'd fought the Patriots, the changes he'd demanded in their men had been not necessarily out of the "goodness" of his heart. He'd demanded them because was logical. If you wanted to replace one regime when you were coming from behind, you had to offer something better. Every time he held a gun in his hands or wielded a sword, he'd felt the bloodlust, rage and power flow through him. And the lust for power had called to him like the promise of another high calls to a heroin addict, or the bottle calls to an alcoholic. So, he'd made the decision to walk away and retire. He couldn't change his nature, but he didn't want to be a slave to it either. And in the end, it wouldn't matter.

So lost is he in his own head, Monroe loses track of time as it passes. Before he knows it, Jason Neville and the other soldier have returned. He hands are bound and he is being led from his cell and up the stairs. In front of the hotel, a scaffold has been built. A noose hangs from the top beam. He is dragged up onto the platform and forced to stand on an old box. The noose is placed over his head; he looks around at the spectators below. Some look sad, others terrified. It brings him a small measure of comfort to know that at least a handful of people had believed in him. But, most of the people below look satisfied. A rock hits his shoulder, followed by another at his hip. He's willing to bet that Neville has given orders to keep the population riled. The rocks continue to come until one misses its mark and almost hits Jason Neville as he is adjusting the noose. The soldiers spring to action and force the crowd back.

Tom Neville and Connor appear. Monroe vaguely hears the charges against him read off one by one. He is in such a daze that he's not even sure which one is speaking, and cannot focus on the words. Moments later, the box is kicked out from under his feet and he drops down and is suspended only a foot or so above the platform. Whoever designed the platform has done this deliberately. The short drop ensures that the noose does not break his neck; his death will take a while.

Monroe feels it tighten, cutting off his breath. He kicks and struggles as the rope slowly strangles him. His lungs are burning for air. His struggles cause the noose to pull even tighter. His fingers claw at the ropes binding his hands, desperate to find a weak spot in the fibers. The spectators see his face turn red as his circulation is cut off. The rope turns with every kick. He is now facing the militia soldier – the one he recognizes but can't place. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen, but Monroe swears he sees the man nod. Not to him, but to someone behind him. Jason Neville maybe? As the rope continues to rotate, Jason comes into view. Monroe watches as he slowly unsheathes a knife.

He thinks for a second that Jason has taken pity on him; he will end it now instead of waiting for him to slowly suffocate. He is grateful for this unexpected show of mercy. Instead Jason's hand arcs up swiftly. In one quick motion the rope that Monroe hangs from is severed. As his feet touch the platform, Monroe feels another knife cutting the ropes that bind his hands behind his back. He collapses, coughing violently as the air rushes into his lungs.

He hears shouts and the sound of gunfire as he is dragged off the platform. Still coughing, they pull him to his feet. The crowd swallows the trio. The handful of spectators that seemed unhappy with his demise have realized what is happening. They effectively buffer them as the rest of the crowd surges forward. Connor's men cannot risk shooting into the crowd. He needs the support of the people, for now. Shooting them will not aid his cause.

Guards rush into the crowd as chaos erupts around them. Monroe looks around wildly, trying to make sense of all this – he has not caught on as quickly as the crowd has. Miles is suddenly by his side, wielding a sword, fending off any soldiers that have gotten too close. One breaks through and grabs Monroe's arm. The man falls to his knees a few seconds later, the fletching of a bolt is sticking out of his chest. Monroe turns his head and sees Charlie standing there in the distance, her crossbow still raised. It just now dawns on him that he is being rescued by the Mathesons.

He is pulled through the streets of Chicago and dumped unceremoniously into a wagon that is lying in wait. Rachel and Gene wait on the driver's bench. Charlie jumps in to join him in the back of the wagon as it takes off. The rest of his rescue party has split up. He looks up at Charlie. Her eyes are on the road behind them – her crossbow at ready and a pistol strapped to her thigh, just in case. As the wagon barrels through the winding streets, one of Connor's guards jumps into the wagon from above. He must have been waiting on top one of the lower buildings.

Before Charlie has a chance to react, Monroe grabs the gun from her holster and shoots. The force of the gun throws the man back and out of the wagon. Monroe locks eyes with Charlie as he lowers the gun. She is the last thing he sees before passing out.


	3. Chapter 3

Monroe wakes up abruptly. He claws at his throat, coughing and gagging. In his dreams he is still dangling from that rope. In the haste of their escape, Charlie has not thought to remove the remnants of the noose. It still encircles his neck. He tears at it, panicked and unaware of his surroundings. The wagon moves at breakneck speed as they try to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Chicago. Rachel takes the reins from her father, slowing the horses down just enough for him to clamber safely into the back of the wagon.

"Hold him down," Gene barks at Charlie. She uses all her weight to pin his shoulders to the bed of the wagon as Gene shoves Monroe's hands aside to remove the noose. Still gasping, he struggles against them, running on pure instinct – desperate to get away. He strikes out at Gene, clipping the older man in the jaw. Monroe's eyes are wild, unseeing. Charlie realizes that he is completely unaware of what is going on around him. "Mom!" she calls to Rachel as she throws herself on top of Monroe, trying to keep him pinned down.

In his state, Monroe is like a wounded animal. He is dangerous and she needs to get him calmed down before he hurts them or causes himself further damage. Rachel pulls the horses to a stop. The animals are panting and foaming with exertion. They have been traveling at this speed for hours. Rachel jumps into the back of the wagon. She straddles his legs to keep him from kicking, holding them down with all of her weight.

Gene recovers from the hit and takes over at Monroe's shoulders. He is not as strong as Charlie, but he does outweigh her, and right now, weight is what they need. Charlie sits in front of her mother straddling his hips, squeezing them with her thighs to keep him still. It crosses her mind very briefly what she is sitting on. She shakes the random thought away and focuses. She places her hands on the sides of his face, holding his head still. Gene has made her very aware that the rope could have damaged one of the vertebrae in his neck. If this is the case, his thrashing could very well end in paralysis.

"Look at me," she commands softly. "Look at me. Shhh…"

Her voice slowly breaks through the fog that surrounds him. Monroe's thrashing slowly subsides. He lies there, panting and gasping for breath as his vision clears and he sees her above him. Charlie's blue eyes are filled with both concern and determination. She bends closer to him. "It's over – you're safe. We've got you. It's okay." She runs on, crooning to him softly as he slowly calms down. Eyes wide, he nods his understanding. He tries to say something but it comes out as a croak. He closes his eyes, frustrated.

The attempt to talk was excruciating. Each breath he takes burns and tortures his abused throat. Everything hurts and he is so tired. Rachel gets off of his calves and jumps down to see to the horses. Confident that Charlie has him under control now, Gene joins her. They are almost to the rendezvous point and they need to keep moving. Connor will have sent men to scour the area. They need to hurry up and get off the road.

As the wagon lurches forward, Monroe groans. This causes him to cough again. Charlie helps him to sit up and holds a canteen to his lips. He drinks greedily, ignoring the sharp pains as he swallows. The water is soothing. Charlie sets the canteen aside. She pulls a flask out and hands it to him. His hands are shaking as he takes it from her. She holds a finger to her lips, indicating that he should keep it between them. Charlie figures that if anything it will dull some of the pain she knows he is in – physically and otherwise. The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it's a good kind of burn. Monroe nods his appreciation. _Liquid duct tape_, _fixes everything_, he thinks to himself wryly.

Charlie settles him back down. Gene will need to look him over later, but for now meeting up with the others is their top priority. She hesitates for a second before she changes her position. She sits now with his head in her lap. The intimacy makes her slightly uncomfortable, but Gene has pulled off of the main road and the wagon is jarring him.

Absently, Charlie brushes his hair off of his forehead. Monroe looks up into her eyes questioningly as she does this. Realizing what she has done, Charlie blushes and then looks away. She refuses to look at him when she does it again a few minutes later. The contact is soothing, and he closes his eyes. He falls asleep to the feel of her hands gently stroking his hair.

When he next wakes up, Monroe is no longer in the wagon. The mid-spring sun is high in the sky now, indicating that it was midday. The sunlight filters through the tree limbs above him. He can hear the sound of running water a short distance away. _A river? Creek?_ He wonders. Gene Porter's face comes into view. Monroe furrows his brows in confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on around him. His torn shirt has been removed. He tries to sit up, but cool hands pin his shoulders gently to the bedroll under him. "Hold still. Let him check you." the faceless voice belongs to Rachel Matheson. She sounds detached, almost clinical. For the first time since he's known her, Monroe does as she bids. He nods at Gene to proceed.

Gene places an old and worn blood pressure cuff on his bicep. As the cuff tightens around his arm, the end of a stethoscope is placed in the crook of his elbow. Rachel holds up a windup pocket watch so Gene can see it while he counts the beats. Finished, Gene writes the results on a yellowed scrap of paper before instructing him to sit up. He moves the stethoscope to Monroe's chest. "Take a few deep breaths," Gene instructs him. As Monroe complies with the rest of his examination, the absurdity of the situation strikes him. Gene may as well be in a doctor's office instead of in the middle of nowhere. At this moment, Monroe is simply a patient – not the man who caused the death of his grandson, tortured his daughter and lost command of a nation (twice). Rachel acts as his medical assistant, not a woman who would forever want him dead.

Gene has him lay back down and begins to examine his neck. Monroe winces as Gene's hands gently probe, "Sorry," Gene says quietly at Monroe's quick intake of breath when he touches a particularly tender spot. Moving on, Gene checks his ribs and back for injury form his beatings, and the examination is finally over. The experience has been humbling to Monroe to say the least.

Monroe sits up once more as Gene addresses him. "Well, you've been worked over pretty good, but nothing seems to be broken, not even a cracked rib. Your throat is another matter. Before the blackout, injuries like this were treated seriously by a specialist. I can't exactly send you to one. You need to take it easy for a while – no fighting, try not to talk. You've probably got some damage to your vocal cords. I have no way of knowing if it's permanent."

Monroe considered this. He didn't need a voice to fight. "Well it's not like I was trying to make it on Broadway," he says flatly. The words are raspy, barely above a whisper.

Gene rolls his eyes. "I don't think you're getting this. Your vocal cords are a part of your larynx. If it's damaged it affects more than your voice. If it swells in your sleep, you won't wake up again. If you are hit in the neck before you heal, it could crush your larynx and you'll suffocate." Gene's voice is firm, almost hinging on harsh. They didn't go through all this effort to save the man just to watch him die out of stubbornness or pride.

"I need to monitor you over the next several days. If you have problems breathing, even a little you need to tell me. You'll have pain trying to swallow and talk for at least several days if not longer. If it gets worse, you need to tell me. Drink lots of water and you need to sleep at an angle to keep the swelling down. And I swear if you don't follow my instructions, I will have Miles keep you tied up until you're healed." Finished with his instructions, Gene turned to his medical bag and started packing it back up.

Obviously dismissed, Monroe slowly gets to his feet. A wave of dizziness overcomes him slightly and he starts to falter. Instinctively he grabs onto the closest object to steady himself. Unfortunately, this happens to be Rachel's shoulder. Much to his surprise, she doesn't immediately shove him to the ground at first contact. Despite the obvious disgust at his proximity, she helps him to balance himself.

Monroe's equilibrium restored, he slowly makes his way through the camp towards the brook they have stopped by. Rachel sits down under the tree and leans up against the trunk. The past seven hours have been exhausting. The speed at which they'd traveled may have tired the horses, but it has allowed for them to meet up with the others and regroup. Barring detection, they will be able to stay here until morning. Normally they wouldn't have stopped for so long while on the run, but the fact was Monroe needed to rest. They'd all discussed this in depth while he was still out. Any complications from his hanging were beyond the reach of post-blackout medicine.

And, if they were going to reach someplace safe the horses did need time to recover. Rachel absently picks at a blade of grass as she watches Monroe stumble his way towards the water. His gait is normally athletic –graceful even. But now his movements are pained and clumsy. Gene looks at her thoughtfully. "Penny for your thoughts? You were awful nice, considering you were happy to let him hang."

Rachel sighs thoughtfully and tosses the blade of grass aside. "I can't imagine what he is going through. This is the second time Connor has tried to kill him in front of an audience. Just because I hate him doesn't mean I can't feel sympathy for him. If Charlie tried to kill me, I can imagine I'd be heartbroken."

Monroe sits by the water unaware of the blue eyes that observe him a short distance away. The shock of the past twenty-four hours is settling in, full force. Rachel is not the only one who sees the parallel between this morning's events and that night in Puesta del Sol. It is finally sinking in that between that night and today, nothing with Connor had ever really changed. Despite all his efforts to connect and build some type of relationship with his son, Connor has hated him the entire time. He has just been very good at hiding it.

As he reflects on his life it occurs to Monroe that everyone he has ever cared about has either died on him or tried to kill him. _What kind of life is that? _ He wonders, morosely. Blinking back tears of regret, he starts to rise. As he does, he notices he's no longer alone. He sinks back down to the ground as Charlie approaches. In his current state of health, he's hardly going to intimidate her into leaving him alone, so he is resigned to putting up with the intrusion. He can only hope she will figure out that he really wants to be left alone.

Charlie sits down next to him, stretching her legs out in front of her, reclining on her elbows. They both concentrate on staring at the gently flowing water as the silence between them becomes uncomfortable. "Are you okay?" She finally asks. Charlie knows it's a stupid question, and regrets it the second it's out there. She'd felt she should say something, but hadn't known what else to say.

Monroe shrugs in response. Any reply would be as stupid as the question. He knows his wounds will heal. His body is just too stubborn for it to be otherwise. The rest is just par for the course for him. His loneliness and isolation have been amplified surely, but they've been there for so much of his life, he barely recalls it being otherwise. The few short years with Shelly and the six months he'd been fooled by Connor have been the only reprieves ever since his family died. There is no point in explaining this all to her. It will only serve to remind her of her own losses.

The silence resumes for a while before he speaks to her. Something had been bothering him since he'd woken up. He has finally mustered up the courage to ask. His voice croaks, so he tries to clear his throat before the words will come out, albeit barely above a raw whisper. "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to check on you, make sure you're alright," she responds uneasily.

Monroe shakes his head. She doesn't understand. "No, I mean why are you _here_? How did you know? Why was your family even in Chicago in the first place?"

Charlie hesitates. Miles having been elected to represent Jasper is the easiest answer. But, Charlie knows Connor's lies have already left scars. He will eventually learn the truth about what she and Miles had come to do. After seeing him trying to make things right (and almost dying for it), she feels he at least deserves her honesty. "We had come to assassinate you."

Monroe closes his eyes and nods in understanding. He should not have expected anything less. "Why bother saving me then? I'd have gotten what I deserve and you've had gotten what you came fore. Wouldn't even have gotten your hands dirty." The rasping in his voice from the hanging only serve to highlight his bitterness.

Charlie flushes with guilt. "Because right before Miles pulled the trigger, you gave it all away." Monroe turns his head and for the first time since she joined him here, he looks at her. He waits for her to continue. "Do you think we wanted to have to be there to kill you? We came to stop you before you got out of control again. When you reformed the Monroe Republic, we didn't know what your intentions were. We couldn't just stand by and watch history repeat itself," She explains, hoping he will understand.

Monroe can feel her sincerity, read it in her eyes. Well, if she'd come to kill him, at least she felt bad about it at the time. That was something at least. "Fair enough," he whispers. "You weren't that far off. I caught myself sliding back down that road. That's why I tried to step back now, rather than after things were more settled. If I'd have waited any longer, I wouldn't have been able to." This admission does not come easily, but he figures if she's being honest with him, he should do the same.

Charlie moves closer to him. They are almost touching. She raises her hand and places it on his cheek. "Then I guess it means more that way." She lowers her hand slowly and resumes her earlier position, although she does not move away from him. Her gesture and proximity both confuse and excite him at the same time. But as they sit there, he starts to become uncomfortable. He'd once harbored strong feelings for her – still did if he'd let himself admit it. He'd never quite figured out what those feelings were exactly, but he'd been hurt and angry when she'd gotten involved with Connor briefly.

It does occur to him that she and Miles had not come to take out Connor as well. She'd chosen Connor over him before and in a way had done the same in Chicago as well. That he would forever be the Monroe she'd found lacking was a bitter pill to swallow. When Charlie spoke again, it was almost like she could sense the direction of his thoughts. "I'm sorry Connor turned out to be well, not what anyone expected."

"Aren't you glad he was the one you decided to fuck?" He knows he's being an ass. After all, she'd just helped to save him, and had even cared enough to be concerned about him a few minutes ago. But somehow he just can't help himself.

Charlie freezes for a second. She cannot believe what Monroe has just said to her. Her initial reaction is to slap him, but she stops herself. It occurs to her that when he's upset or hurt, he is indeed like a wounded animal – always lashing out at those around him. That's exactly what he is doing now. He's devastated over Connor's betrayal – even a fool can see that. So no, she won't hit him for his question. She comes up with a better way to retaliate, "What is it with you? Yeah, Connor and I had a thing. It's been over since you both left with the Militia. Why has it always bothered you so much?"

Monroe furrows his brows at her. Had she really been that oblivious? "Oh, I don't know,Charlie. Why would it?" He raises his voice as much as his bruised vocal cords will allow. It doesn't exactly come out as a yell, but with the rasping it does sound a little menacing. He starts to get up and walk away from her. With everything that has happened in the past day, this is the last conversation he's ready to have.

Stubborn as ever, Charlie rises as well, determined to follow him. He turns abruptly, "I'm sorry I said anything. I was out of line, okay?" He starts to walk down the bank of stream, further from the camp further from her.

"No, that's the second time you've said something like to me," She says, referring to another conversation months ago where he'd pointed out her choice in Monroes. "I want to know what your problem is."

Monroe stops walking and waits for her to catch up. "Charlie, I'm begging you. Can we not do this now?" His eyes implore her as much as his words do. It has finally dawned on Charlie why he'd been so upset when he'd found her with Connor all those long months ago in New Vegas – he'd wanted her.

Charlie cocks her head to one side and looks up at him for a few seconds. He seems so vulnerable and lost now. She moves before she has a chance to analyze her own actions. "Okay," she says as she stands up on her toes and places a soft kiss very gently on the corner of his mouth. She caresses his cheek again for a moment before she sets herself back down on her heels ad walks away. Monroe stares after her, completely confused, and yet somehow he feels a little better.

**A/N: This chapter kind of got away from me in the end, sorry for that. At first I'd ended it without a confrontation, but then I couldn't figure out how else I'd wanted them to have it – and I think they had another one coming (this story assumes that everything that has happened through episode 16 has occurred). I do hope the show allows them to finish the confrontation Monroe started in last week's episode, since Miles kind of interrupted it in the end. (Blackout with your cackout? Haha who says that?) Anyways, thanks again for reading and please let me know what you think. I tried to proof this as much as possible, but I wanted to get it up before the episode tonight.**


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